


The Months

by orphan_account



Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I'm Not Even Kidding About The Fluff, Marriage, Pregnancy, Seriously Excessive Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-08
Updated: 2012-07-08
Packaged: 2017-11-09 10:47:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/454600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Georg is finally marrying the girl he’s loved for years, and the night of their wedding starts a journey that will lead them to their own forever.</p><p>For the FQF 2011</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Months

**Author's Note:**

> For the th_fanfic Georg FQF 2011: Georg's been with his girlfriend for a long time now - maybe they're married - and she's expecting a baby. Happy fluff involving overenthusiastic band 'uncles,' Georg's girlfriend/wife chatting excitedly about baby fashions with Bill, and maybe Georg playing bass lullabies for the unborn little one. - submitted by kishmet
> 
> This will flip POVs between Georg and his bb. :3 And I like the name Sabine.

Month 1

Georg had undone and done up his bow tie compulsively for the 43rd time when Bill, eventually, had had enough of the repetitive movement. The lanky twin stood up to sort it out himself even though they all knew that there was nothing wrong in the first place.

“Now if you touch that again I’m going to strangle you with it.” Bill said in his best I-may-be-the-youngest-but-I’m-still-in-charge voice.

“I’m sorry,” Georg said honestly, “I’m just feeling nervous.”

Tom didn’t move from his seat sprawled on the sofa but he did raise one quizzical eyebrow. “I thought you wanted to marry her. You’re not getting second thoughts are you?”

“It’s not marrying her I’m nervous about, it’s the actual wedding. What if I forget my lines or trip up? Apparently people faint from having to stand still so long. God, what if she says no? What if _she_ decides that she doesn’t want to marry me anymore? What if...”

“Stop it.” Gustav snapped.

Georg looked stunned that his quiet friend would speak so harshly, but he was glad. It was definitely a verbal slap; breaking him out of his hysteria without leaving unsightly handprint marks on his face.

“Sorry,” Georg said to the room again. 

“No, problem.” Gustav said, returning to read his book as though nothing untoward had happened. Georg really didn’t understand how Gustav could be so calm all the time even when he was angry, but his emotions had always been controlled.

“Don’t worry Hagen,” Tom said, “The guy at front tells you your lines before you say them so you don’t have too much to remember.”

“Helpful, Tom, very helpful.” Bill remarked dryly, “I don’t think that’s highest on his list of priorities.”

Then the bickering started between the two, nothing serious, but Georg knew that these little fights, with the anxiety in the air, were prone to escalating.

“And you two can shut up as well,” Gustav said, “He doesn’t need this right now. If you’re going to be like that then you can go and find something useful to do.”

“But we want to stay here.” Tom whined like a small child.

“Yeah, we want to say here.” Bill backed Tom up. Georg wondered when exactly it was that the two of them regressed into infancy. He couldn’t repress the laughter that bubbled forth from his lips. As nervous as the twins were making him, they were also the perfect release to the tension in the air. You could always count on them to have some kind of comment or daft gesture that would let the world hear that not only did they care, but they wanted recipient to know it.

There was a knock at the door and Simone walked in. “Everyone is already seated and you’re parents are at the just next to the empty seats where...”

“Me, Tom and Gustav will sit. We know mum; we did go to the wedding rehearsal.” Bill said with a roll of his eyes.

“Yes and if I recall you almost sat on Aunt Gertie. If you mess up this wedding I swear... You might not live at home anymore, but I’ll find a way to ground you.”

Both twins turned their gaze to the ground in remorse. Simone may have been at least a head shorter than both of the boys, but she was a formidable woman easily capable of intimidating her sons.

“Okay,” Gustav said, wrapping his arms around both of the twins’ shoulders and leading them out of the room, “let’s do this.”

***

Everyone stood to watch as Sabine came through the door. She could feel all the eyes on her; her smile was wide. She knew this was the moment were she was supposed to be the beautiful bride and she felt beautiful, but as soon as she walked through that door all she could see was the handsome man at the altar. What did it matter if she shoved on a pretty dress and did her hair up nicely? The most important thing in the world was a few, painfully slow, steps away.

It took a lot of strength to maintain her pace and not skip gleefully down the aisle. She should have gone with Bill’s suggestion for them all to have a dancing entrance a la glee. Then she could have shown her excitement, but as she joined hands with the man she would spend her life with all other thoughts left her head. What could be more perfect than this?

***

Sabine was waltzing with Gustav (who looked like he was definitely at least partly drunk) whilst Bill and Tom were trying to do some kind of four-four foxtrot and tango mix at the same time. Whilst they were busy happily invading all the other dancers’ space Georg was sitting to the side resting his feet and feeling slightly frustrated. He had been by Sabine’s side all day and watching her be the picture of perfection and yet he had _not_ being allowed to touch her? It was bordering on hell, not that he wished he hadn’t gotten married, quite the contrary, he just wished that Bill didn’t have such a messed up sense of propriety.

He remembered that unfortunate night nearly three months ago when Bill had sat him and Sabine down in the living room and started his serious discussion.

“Now, I know it’s too late to promote chastity with the two of you before marriage.” He pronounced solemnly.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Georg peered at Bill with confusion, “but I think it’s too late for you to be promoting chastity too.”

Bill ignored this in the way only he could, “ _But_ I think you should exercise abstinence until the night of your wedding.”

“Do we get any choice in this?” Sabine inquired.

Bill simply raised an eyebrow at them. “Are you kidding me?”

It turns out that they didn’t, Georg knew that Bill’s ideas always came to fruition whether a person wanted them to or not and Georg had a sneaking suspicion that if Georg and Sabine did _anything_ Bill would somehow just _know_.

Bill always _knew_.

But this evening he would be with her again, and yes, pent up frustrations played a large part of this, but what was more important was the closeness and intimacy. She looked so beautiful tonight, brighter than the sun and Georg swore that he had fallen in love with her all over again.

It was nearing midnight and the limo was ready to take the two of them to the airport to start their honeymoon. He put his drink on the side and walked over to his three best friends and his girlfriend. No; his _wife_. He liked that word.

“Let me cut in here.” He said tapping Gustav on the shoulder.

Gustav whirled around, “Sure!” he exclaimed starting to waltz with Georg instead making him laugh loudly; yup, definitely drunk.

“I’m flattered Gustav, but I was hoping for a dance with the lady.”

“‘S‘okay,” Gustav slurred. “I’ll go dance with Bill, he’s lookin’ pretty today.”

“Okay Gustav,” Georg nodded slowly, sure to remember this for future blackmail, “You go do that.”

He pulled Sabine tight to him, “You look beautiful, but I think I’ve already told you that.”

“Just once or twice, and you look devilishly handsome, obscure reference not intended.”

“I love you.” There were no other words that were more fitting in this moment because it was all his heart and mind were full of.

“I love you too.” She whispered into his ear sending shivers down his spine.

Georg looked up at the tap on his shoulder to see Tom; he had been broken apart from his twin by an inebriated drummer and had a message for the two of them.

“It’s time for you to two to go.” He said, “The car’s waiting outside.”

He gave Tom a pat on the back and took Sabine’s hand, the twins had agreed to wrap the party up and make sure people got home safe.

As for them, they were taking the first step on the journey of the rest of their lives.

Month 2

“Fuck everything.” Sabine moaned as she finished throwing up in the toilet. Georg was holding her hair back to give her some semblance of dignity.

“Do you want a drink Bini?” Georg asked.

She didn’t speak for a moment fearing that she would be sick again, but as her stomach settled she was able to nod, “Yes, please.”

It was the smell of frying onions this time, which was odd because normally she loved the smell, but for almost a week now she had had a raging stomach bug all sorts of smells and foods had caused her to throw up. She was worried that it would have made her lose weight, she was already a naturally gaunt person and the idea of getting any thinner, even temporarily, made her close to panic.

She’d never had stomach flu before, but she was extremely happy that Georg hadn’t caught it, it was awful and she wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

“You’ve had this for days.” Georg pointed out to her as though she didn’t notice.

She was too busy taking sips of water to answer not that she would have had anything helpful to say except, ‘yes, what of it?’

After a few minutes silence her husband decided to speak again, “I think you should go see a doctor.”

“No, it’s not that bad. I feel fine most of the time; I’m sure that it’ll blow over soon. It’s only been a few days.”

She said that, but she was fairly sure that something was wrong.

Month 3

She was hiding it well, but Georg could tell that something was still up. She was insisting that she’d gotten over her stomach bug, but he was fairly certain that she was still throwing up at least once a day. He was worried to begin with that she might have been developing some form of eating disorder, but she didn’t seem to be losing weight or worrying about what she ate, if fact if anything she was eating more than normal.

He had heard of all sorts of cancers and life threatening illnesses that would have given similar symptoms to the ones that Sabine seemed to be experiencing. His dreams were starting to be filled with nightmarish visions of her disappearing or dying or leaving him.

However when he awoke and saw her laying peacefully by his side he always felt like there was nothing more to worry about. This being on the bus couldn’t have been helping her situation any though. The new tour had just started and he knew that Sabine wasn’t used to the touring lifestyle. He hoped it wasn’t the stress of it all that was making her ill, but some part of him hoped that it was something as simple as stress. Stress could be sorted out by talking about the situation or taking a holiday, or as much as he would miss her she could go home to their apartment in Hamburg if it was the best option.

Whatever it was that he had to do, he would do it. He would, with absolute certainty, do anything for her.

***

Sabine had a feeling that she knew what was happening to her. There was the sickness, the hunger, the emotional mood swings that she was desperately trying to keep under control and, most importantly, the missed period. Completely missed and the next was late. With these things in mind she had smuggled a box onto the bus from the pharmacy and now was sitting in the bathroom desperately trying not to look at the test until the two minutes were up.

Each second that ticked by seemed like a lifetime. This stupid little white stick twirling in her fingers was one of the most terrifying objects she had ever owned. The little timer beeped on her phone she closed her eyes took a deep breath.

Well. At least she didn’t have to worry that it was some kind of stomach cancer now. She felt the tears welling up in her eyes though she didn’t really know why she felt so upset; she was old enough to have children, she was happily married, she was financially secure.

But none of that stopped her from being scared to death.

“Hey,” Tom said, walking into the bathroom, the complete lack of understanding that even though Georg might be used to having his personal space invaded Sabine wasn’t. She didn’t think he worried about it much though; she was sure she’d get used to it in time. Right now, however, it was probably the worst time for him to bumble in aimlessly.

She didn’t know whether or not to be surprised that it took Tom so long to notice she was a light breeze away from crying her eyes out. As soon as he noticed though he was like a chocolate teapot, very sweet, but almost completely useless.

“Oh god what did I do?” He said quickly, eyes darting to the door as though planning the most efficient exit that was least likely to result in his untimely death.

“You didn’t do anything.” She said, sounding breathless and watery even to her own ears.

She could see the moment that Tom saw the little white stick still clutched in her trembling hands. “Holy fuck. You’re...” He said dumbly, it wasn’t the most eloquent statement, but it did sum up Sabine’s feeling quite nicely so all she could do was nod.

“Is it Georg’s?” Tom asked sounding concerned and unsure. The very question made her feel like slapping her husband’s best friend. How could he honestly think that of her?

“Are you serious?” she asked, even closer to crying than she was before.

“Shit, no that came out wrong. I don’t mean that, I know you wouldn’t it’s just you seemed so upset and my mind and...” he babbled in the way that she was more used to seeing from Bill. “Are you okay?”

She nodded and sniffled. The tears were finally making their way down her face as Tom wrapped one lanky arm around her shoulders. “It’s just the shock.” She answered honestly. It felt good to say that. Okay she was terrified, but she was terrified for the _right_ reasons.

“I’m not surprised; I would be shocked if I was on my way to giving birth to a demi-hobbit.” Tom jibed as he did in any serious situation. It was silly, but it did make her laugh bringing one of her hands up to wipe her face dry.

“Tom,” she said his name in a questioning voice, “Could you keep mum for a couple of hours? I really need to go and talk to Georg first.”

“Yeah, of course.” He acquiesced easily, letting her stand and leave.

Flashing him a winning smile she made a grab for the door handle “Thanks,” she said honestly, “I’ll probably talk to you later.”

***

He wasn’t very used to dealing with Sabine crying, she was one of those few women he knew who didn’t get very emotional. She wasn’t a cold person by any stretch of the imagination, if anything she was incredibly warm and affable, but she didn’t seem to let things get her down for very long.

So seeing her walk towards him evidence of her having been crying on her face, he couldn’t help but feel that his worst fears had in that moment been confirmed. She was dying, or really ill, or something along those lines. Oh god, they’d only just gotten married and she was going to be gone.

She shuffled towards him. Her hands were behind her back as though she was hiding something and it was making Georg nervous; well, more nervous at any rate. He put his bass to the side and stood up to meet her. “What happened?” he asked, concerned.

Sabine remained silent, but brought her hands round to give something to Georg. It was a little plastic stick, and for a while Georg was confused as to why she was giving it to him, until he looked at it properly.

The little blue lines meant nothing to him right now. He had a little niggling suspicion that he should know what this was, his brain however had temporarily shut down. He looked to his wife for confirmation of what he was supposed to understand.

“I’m pregnant.”

The words hit Georg square in the chest. His pulse increased and his whole body went into temporary standby mode. This had been the last thing he expected, though how he thought about it, he didn’t know how he could have been so stupidly blind. Of _course_ she was pregnant. What else could make a person so ill without causing them to lose weight dramatically or have other symptoms?

As the information sunk into his consciousness, he felt a slow smile creep onto his face. He swept Sabine into his arms and (gently) spun her around. This was going to go down in his personal history as the best day ever.

Month 4

It was a week after Georg had found out that Sabine was pregnant, and after many teary, but happy conversations with band members, family and management they had decided that it was imperative that they booked a hospital appointment. Of course Georg agreed to go, why would he not want to be there to find out about their baby? But there was one small catch:

Georg hated hospitals, he always had. 

They smelled so uniquely like hospitals, they felt like hospitals, they sounded like hospitals, everything about them was... _hospital-y_. Every time he had visited a hospital in the past it had been for a bad reason, deaths of elderly relatives, and surgery for friends and family, and severe illnesses. The places had such a negative atmosphere to him, though they’re main purpose was healing, it was rare that people who needed to be there didn’t start off in a worse place.

But this visit felt different, this wasn’t about death and illness, this was about life and joy. The ward even _felt_ different, it _felt_ happy. He wondered how much of the feeling was from his own overactive imagination and how much of it was actual joy radiating from the walls and staff.

“Sabine Listing; please go to room 3.” The receptionist called out, how she was able to always sound so uniquely chipper Georg didn’t know, she sounded like she was genuinely pleased and surprised that people would come to a maternity ward expecting children every single time she called out a name. He had heard of the miracle of birth, but some people took the feeling to a whole new level, he like it though; it was how a place like this should be.

“Good morning,” The doctor said as the couple walked through the door. She was a short woman, no more than 5 ft tall, with hair the very definition of copper coloured. “I shall take a leap into the unknown and assume you must be Sabine.” She said shaking Sabine’s hand, “And you must be her husband.”

“Georg Listing,” he said, shaking her hand. He couldn’t help but grin that she hadn’t just assumed his name. It was unlikely that she didn’t recognise him at least a little bit, but she was clearly a polite person and it was refreshing to see someone who didn’t act like they knew who he was even if they did. That was one of the unfortunate things about being famous; you lost some of the joy of getting to know strangers.

“My name is Dr. Marken and hopefully I shall be looking after you for the next six months. So, let’s get this show on the road.”

***

The gel was bloody cold. It felt like such a cliché to complain about how cold the gel was before an ultrasound, but it was definitely true. The paper that was tucked into her trousers was scratchy too. She didn’t know why she couldn’t just take her trousers off. She was going to whip it all out for this doctor at some point in the future _anyway_ but then again she never had had much of a sense of social propriety. Not that she was the kind to flash her bits any which way, but she didn’t feel that keen embarrassment some people did when she had to get smear tests or physical exams.

The probe pushed at her tiny bump. She knew it wasn’t that visible yet, but she could already feel the difference.

She turned her head towards the screen to look for the baby. She looked at the screen expecting to see very little, she knew the baby would only be a couple of inches big at this point, but when the little picture came up on the screen she couldn’t take her eyes of it. That right there was her little baby, the little boy or girl that she’d give birth to in just over five and a half months. She could only spare Georg a passing glance as she was still riveted by her baby’s little movements. Upon seeing Georg she couldn’t feel bad about it; she could see that Georg was as enthralled as she was.

“Now, as you’re at the beginning of the second trimester you should be able to tell the sex of the baby.” She said, moving the probe around gently, “However, unfortunately...” she began sending spikes of fear right through Sabine.

“Unfortunately, what?” Georg asked showing that he held the same fears and Sabine did “Is there something wrong?”

“Oh; no.” She said seemingly realising how her cut off statement could have been taken, “No; your baby looks perfectly healthy and as they should at this stage, I simply mean that unfortunately, I can’t tell the sex yet because your little one is being shy.” The doctor added, pointing at the screen where the babies’ legs were crossed.

“However,” she said fiddling with the equipment for a moment, “if we listen carefully...” there was a total silence in the room until Sabine heard that beautiful noise. There was nothing in the world that quite compared to that emotional sound that was coming from those little speakers.

It was her baby’s heartbeat.

She was just going to have to get used to crying she guessed.

***

This was one of the stupidest things he’d ever done. Sabine was lucky that she had never started because she would have had to given up cold turkey and Georg simply couldn’t imagine how hellish that would have been.

It was finally that time in his life: He had given up smoking.

Sabine wasn’t a fan of smoking in the first place, but she had quite happily said from the start of their relationship, as long as it wasn’t around her, she didn’t mind if he did or didn’t. He had been meaning to give up anyway, but there was something about it that was a connection to his formative years, to those times when he would go behind the bike sheds at school for that sneaky forbidden cigarette. And then later on in his life it reminded him of the haze of the clubs, especially in the early years of Tokio Hotel’s big successes in Germany. Smoking reminded him of a more carefree time.

But as soon as Dr. Marken had talked about the dangers of second hand smoke to children and unborn babies he had given up then and there. He hadn’t had a cigarette since.

He did feel really sick and headachy though.

And it had only been four days.

Fuck it.

Originally he was going to keep some of his last pack as a safety net, but he knew how bad his impulse control could be at times and he thought better of it.

Right now, the nerves that he felt were definitely starting to make him rethink things.

Gustav, Bill and Tom were all with him. Sabine was sitting to the sidelines for her own protection (though from what no-one had yet explained to him.) and he was waiting to go up to the table to give his official statement to the press. This was his personal business and he didn’t want to have it splashed all over tabloids because of rumours and paparazzi stalkers. If he was going to do this he would do it his way, no exclusive interviews or photo shoots (not yet at least) this would be all he would say on the matter. Let people speculate what they will. It was better that the truth came from him for all the world to hear, rather than it to come from one disreputable source.

“Hey,” Bill said, tapping him on his shoulder and offering from a packet of Marlboro Lights “we’ve got time for one before we go on.” 

God, Georg was tempted. He was very, very tempted, but all he could picture was his little unborn baby choking on his smoke. “No,” said Georg after a tense moment, “No I’m giving up.” He said sounding more resolved than he felt

“Okay then,” said Bill cheerfully chucking the whole packet in the bin.

Georg’s eyes were wide as dinner plates. “What did you do that for?” he asked, shocked.

“We’re giving up.” Bill said with a nonchalant shrug, “Aren’t we Tomi?” Tom sighed softly, but then nodded and followed in his twin’s footsteps throwing his own packet away.

“Why are you doing that? You really don’t need to.”

“Oh like you would cope without us.” Gustav said repeating the actions of the other two. “Anyway this baby needs positive role models and I doubt that he’s going to find any in you three.”

The grin that spread across his face was uncontrollable; it never failed to strengthen him when he had the support of his band mates. It would take a while to see how steady they were in their resolve, but the gesture meant a lot to him right then. It was the one thing that Sabine really couldn’t help him in, because for all that she could give her support, she wasn’t actually in the same situation, and didn’t understand how hard it would be for him to give up.

The advice clinic had started talking about all sorts of things about the way people’s brains grow extra neurones that crave nicotine when they smoke so that even after years people can fall off the bandwagon and it made him nervous. It probably a piece of friendly advice telling him that it’s okay if he didn’t get it right first time. But he didn’t have time on his side, that baby was already growing inside of Sabine and the choices they made where already starting to have an effect, right here and right now.

Thank god for the band.

“I just want to ask you all something,” he started. Bill was poised in rebuttal mode, ready to combat any notion that the whole lot of them were being in any way silly or juvenile, but Georg was one hundred percent sure that he wouldn’t combat this.

“Me and Sabine want you three to be named as godparents.”

“Well I,” Bill began and then seemed to belatedly process that was actually said, “Wait, what?”

“Are you serious?” Tom said, for once not at the ready with some silly remark.

Bill was crying already, the tears starting to gather in the corners of his eyes, if nothing else Georg could take that much as a yes.

“Yes we’re sure.” Georg restated.

There was no response from anyone aside from Bill fussing over his now running eyeliner and Georg was starting to get worried that they weren’t interested in a role of responsibility like the one he was offering to them.

“Do you not want to?” He asked unsurely, “Because if you don’t, I don’t really have a back-up plan. Good friends are hard to come by.”

Georg found himself engulfed in the arms of his band mates “Of course we do,” Gustav said, the only one who was giving a sensible reply. Bill was busy sniffling something along the lines of ‘stupid hobbit’ into his shoulder and Tom was still stunned speechless.

Georg’s heart was full; full of love for his friends, full of love for Sabine and their baby, full of joy and full of relief.

At this rate he was going to have to upgrade his heart to a bigger one to fit all the emotions in.

As the group disentangled itself, a representative from the press conference came to tell them it was time for the band to give their big announcement.

He wondered how many of the press will be happy the band weren’t splitting (as rumours always suggested) and how many would be disappointed.

It didn’t matter.

He had everything he wanted.

Month 5

Why was her mouth watering at the mere thought of it? She _hated_ peanut butter and the texture of banana’s made her gag normally. So why did she want a peanut butter and banana sandwich? And why on earth did she decide that salad cream would make the perfect addition to the mix?

She stared at the sandwich sitting there harmlessly on the plate willing herself not to take the first bite even though she knew she’d enjoy immensely. She didn’t want to be one of those clichéd film versions of pregnant women who ate gherkin ice-cream all the time (though she had completely gone off gherkins, which was odd considering she normally quite liked them) and it was a five minute struggle to go and put her monstrosity of a snack in the fridge (no sense in wasting good food) and find something sensible and nutritious to abate her hunger.

As she sat with the box of cornflakes and the bottle of milk she realised that right now she couldn’t do this; she couldn’t pretend that eating this normal morning meal would satisfy anywhere near as much as that unholy concoction would.

Grabbing the plate from the fridge once more, she closed her eyes and took a deep bite. If she didn’t look at it she could pretend that it was a normal healthy sandwich full of a normal combination of ingredients and fuck it tasted really, _really_ good.

Georg sat down across from her chewing on the end of a pen so hard that a person might have assumed it had somehow insulted his grandmother. At least it looked like she wasn’t the only one with cravings making her do crazy things.

***

Sabine appeared to be eating a sandwich as though it was liable to explode on her any moment and Georg wasn’t exactly sure why. If she didn’t want to eat it then he didn’t know why she would, unless she was trying to find some ingenious way of eating her daily prenatal vitamins.

He put the pen he’d been chewing on down and leaned over to give his wife a good morning kiss but she turned her face so it landed on her cheek. “Is everything okay?” he said sitting back a little confused by her reaction, but her soft smile soothed his nerves.

“Sandwich of death.” She offered as an explanation, “I might be going crazy but I’m pretty sure your taste buds still work.”

“I don’t know,” Georg countered, “It could be really nice and you just think you’re going crazy. What’s in it?”

“Peanut butter,” That was normal, Georg thought (aside from Sabine’s hatred of the stuff), “Banana” And that went well with peanut butter, not so strange, “Salad Cream,” Okay now it was getting odd, “Mustard, and cooked onion.”

Georg made himself a mental note to never let Sabine make him a sandwich, at least until she wasn’t addled by the hormones.

He laughed as she finished off her list of bizarre ingredients. “Yeah, you were right in the first place, you are going crazy.”

“I think what’s worse is that it tastes _amazing_. How are you anyway? You look stressed.”

Georg hadn’t realised it had shown so much, but he had been stressed of late, that deep feeling inside like he wouldn’t be able to breathe if he didn’t get a cigarette soon, he did understand the irony of the situation, but it didn’t make the feeling go away. Much like Sabine knew her sandwich was ridiculous.

“I’m fine,” Georg insisted, to which Sabine gave him a single look that implicitly told him that she didn’t believe a word that he said, “I _will_ be fine. I’ve just never tried to quit anything before; it’s harder than I anticipated.”

Reaching over the table she patted his hand gently, “You know you can get those smokeless nicotine inhalers, you don’t have to give up completely if it’s getting too much.”

“I’ve thought about those, but I know that if I start slipping a little I’m just go back to the beginning completely. You don’t need to worry about it; we’ve got other things to be thinking about. Like your choice of sandwich fillings for a start.”

She put up her hands in mock innocence and pointed at her stomach, “Talk to baby; they’re the one that wanted it. Isn’t that right baby,” she said laying a hand on the bump. She started a little in shock stopping the movement of her hand and then smiling widely.

“Georg, come here quick,” she said practically dragging him across to the other side of the table. “Feel, here.” Sabine grabbed his hand and placed it on her stomach. He didn’t know what it was he was supposed to be feeling until there was a sharp jab under his palm.

“That’s...” he cut off, unable to articulate his feelings, “Is that the first time?”

“Well, I’ve felt them move a little before, but I’ve not been able to feel it with my hand like this, no.” The grin on his face wouldn’t shift, he felt so much happiness right now that he wasn’t sure it was even real.

Georg leant over to kiss her and Sabine didn’t turn away this time but instead kissed her husband soundly back. “Baby obviously really liked the sandwich. Does it hurt?” he asked, still enraptured by the movement.

“No,” said Sabine airily as if in a daze.

Georg didn’t care how disgusting the sandwich was; if it meant that he could have moments like this then he would make Sabine a million of them.

Hell, for a moment like this he might even _eat_ one.

Month 6

Bill was fluttering in a manner that was making Georg nervous. Bill always started fluttering when he had big ideas, and Bills ideas were _always_ big. (Or at least felt like it, but Bill could make his choice of sock colour seem like such a ground breaking dilemma that you almost felt the need to get the U.N involved.)

So Bill was plotting something, but what he was plotting Georg couldn’t yet decipher. He would just have to wait for Bill to tell him the plan, but that was alright; he knew he wouldn’t have to wait long.

“Geeeeorg,” Bill expanded the bassist’s name in his best I-am-innocent-and-sweet-and-you-will-do-anything-I-ask-because-of-it voice. Georg didn’t know how Bill had so many voices for these specific occasions, but there was never a time that Bill didn’t have a tone perfectly suited to the job.

“Hmm,” Georg replied, not wanting to invite trouble and not liking where this was going already.

“Is Sabine still able to walk?” he asked in complete seriousness.

“Yes, Bill” Georg was now slightly bemused, “she’s pregnant not invalid. I’m pretty sure she’s got a couple of months of mobility in her yet.

There was an indignant huff from the lanky singer. “It’s a reasonable question, Georg. Anyway,” he said continuing with his original conversation, “It’s come to my attention that the baby will need clothes.”

“I know Bill, me and Sabine have already bought...”

“Sorry Georg, but you know your sense of fashion is terrible, and you can’t trust Sabine right now in her condition to not try and put the baby in all pink. Pink for a baby girl is so cliché; it would be a terrible idea. We’re all going shopping today.”

“But Bill...”

“No buts,” Bill said, already walking away, “get Bini ready. I’ll send Kris to meet you in half an hour.”

***

Sabine wondered why she was being woken from her precious sleep earlier than anticipated, she had a doctor’s appointment today and wasn’t expecting to be awake until fifteen minutes before they needed to leave for that. Apparently for some bizarre reason Georg had other ideas.

“Hey sweetie,” Georg said kissing her on the forehead, “Bill’s insisted on taking us shopping today so you should get up.”

She sat up as quickly as her swollen belly would allow her before looking at Georg in utter confusion, “Shopping for what?”

“More fashionable baby clothes, apparently.” Georg said with a shrug.

Suddenly it all made so much more sense, she was almost surprised that it hadn’t happened before, she was even more surprised that Bill hadn’t hired DSquared to design ‘fierce’ baby outfits for them. Bill had had stripy suspenders as a toddler. No further explanation was needed.

Slightly grudgingly she rolled out of bed and changed into an appropriately fashionable outfit; if Bill was on a clothes oriented rampage she didn’t want the potential for a whole new maternity wardrobe to add fuel to the fire.

***

Georg didn’t know that there _were_ shops like this, the range of tiny clothes was both astounding and slightly worrying, _who_ would put that much effort into clothes for newborns?

Bill was babbling about the shades of clothes that needed to be picked out, and had been speaking to Sabine about such matters for a good half an hour. “Now I’m not sure how well genetic throwback works, but I know with mixtures of genes it can be very likely that children look more like their grandparents or uncles than their parents. So if the baby turns out like me and Tom.” Georg felt the desperate need to cut in.

“Bill, you’re the godfather, not the genetic uncle.”

Bill waved a hand in a dismissive gesture, “Potayto, potahto.” He said and continued as though there had been no interruption, “Now though Georg wears green, it doesn’t suit me or Tom at all, so that’s probably out when it comes to onesies.”

“It’s a baby Bill. It’s not going to care.” Georg tried to reason but he knew he was fighting a losing battle when he turned to look at Sabine imploringly and she was too engrossed in baby size converse to have been registering what was said.

When the alarm went off on his phone he almost cried from relief.

“Sorry Bill, We have to go to our hospital appointment.”

***

After Dr. Marken had dispensed with the general pleasantries and the overall check up, Sabine had a small vial of blood drawn from her arm to check that all her levels were okay, before she lay back to have her ultrasound taken.

The baby had grown so much since the last time they’d seen it, it was looking so much more like a tiny human now, before it was still a little sea-monkey like, but this was definitely a baby, a tiny little baby inside her just waiting until they could say hello to the world.

“Well you’ve got some good news today,” The doctor said looking intently at the screen.

“What is it?” Sabine asked.

“Congratulations Mr and Mrs Listing: It’s a boy.”

Georg kissed Sabine soundly on the lips. They had a little boy, a tiny little son and he chuckled before sending Bill a quick text.

‘ _You can buy pink; it won’t be cliché._ ’

Month 7

Sabine wasn’t very good at singing, she could just about hold a tune, but she had never been able to make it sound melodious like some people could. She freely admitted that, but it didn’t mean that she didn’t _like_ to sing. She hummed to herself all the time and lately she had taken to singing aloud.

Georg didn’t particularly care that she wasn’t the best singer in the world, neither was Bill sometimes. The sight of her singing to herself mixing cake batter that she wasn’t even going to cook was always one of the most uplifting sights he could ever see. Even if it was the middle of the night, and they were both meant to be asleep right now.

“ _Sleep and remember my lullaby so I’ll be with you when you dream_ ” she crooned to her stomach, rubbing soothing circles on it with one hand; the baby was probably kicking again. Of late the baby’s movements had started to cause her more discomfort that would wake her up, but they had both found that when they spoke to the baby or played some kind of music to him then he would start to calm down.

“What’re you singing?” Georg said as he came up behind Sabine and wrapped his arms around her middle.

“I don’t know, it’s from a film I think, but I can’t remember which one.” She said leaning back against him.

“Baby moving again?” he asked, joining his hands with hers on her stomach, rubbing lightly when she nodded in reply. “You go sit on the sofa, and I’ll go get my bass.”

If Sabine couldn’t get the baby to settle down when she sang, bass lullabies always did the trick, this baby clearly was going to be amazingly musical, Georg didn’t see how he would be anything else with the way he reacted to music.

“Hello, little one,” he said sitting next to the sofa near the bump so that he could talk to it, “your mummy is tired and your keeping her awake, if I play you a song will you go to sleep?” he smiled as he took the movement he could see under Sabine’s stretched skin to be a yes.

He didn’t know any traditional lullabies, but he was good at plucking along with a soft melodic tune. More often than not it would transform into a song that Sabine could sing and then it would just be the three of them in their own little musical bubble. He had been playing for about twenty minutes, soft and low when he noticed that Sabine wasn’t humming anymore.

“Has he stopped moving?” he asked looking up to the face of his wife. Finding her sleeping he went to grab a blanket from the other room to cover her in and then kept a quiet vigil over his little family, and before long they were all asleep.

***

Georg was the first to wake in the morning with a horrible crick in his neck from the angle he was sleeping at, he wasn’t too worried about how Sabine would be, they chose that sofa specifically because it was so comfortable it should have been illegal, and if she was resting he didn’t want to wake her. Therefore as quietly as possible he tip-toed out of the room to put his bass away.

He was really excited to meet the baby, but he always felt bad calling him ‘the baby’. As soon as Georg had known the infant’s gender he had wanted to give him a name, but giving him a name was such an important thing. A name could really change the way people talked about you or to you. A name was a huge part of a person’s life and it had to be _perfect_.

Sabine hadn’t broached the subject with him yet. Before they had found out that it was a boy, she had been dropping hints that Jenny was a lovely name, but she hadn’t mentioned any boys’ names that had caught her interest.

Georg didn’t know any good boys names, and as much as Gustav had liked to tease; ‘Georg Jr.’ Was definitely out.

***

It was a few days later when Tom and Bill dropped by to see how the couple were doing. Bill, as per usual, had bought enough banoffee pie with him to feed a small army. He had started doing this after he found out that it was one of Sabine’s favourites.

Georg likened it to appeasing the hormone gods after Sabine, in an uncontrollable fit of rage, had bitched at him for saying that the bump was now noticeable. She had translated that as being called fat and had not talked to Bill for almost an hour, before he came back with a slice of pie and told her how radiant she had been looking of late.

Tom on the other hand had brought ‘The Big Book of Baby Names’.

This made Georg worried.

As they all sat around the table Bill started wandering around the kitchen as though he owned the place, “No, Bini dear, you need to rest your feet. With someone as ungentlemanly as Georg as your husband I doubt you ever get a break. Here have a slice of pie. Would you like something to drink?” he nattered as he wandered from cupboard to cupboard trying to remember where the glasses were kept anyway.

“So,” said Tom calling everyone’s attention as though they were at an international summit, “Do you have a name for the baby yet?”

“No,” Georg said as Sabine shook her head.

“Okay good,” Bill said firmly, he placed a glass of milk in front of Sabine before sitting down himself and putting on his business face, “What do you think to the name Tilly?”

“I’m not naming my _son_ Matilda.” Georg said wide eyed, sure it was a nice name, but it would be just begging for bullying to call a _boy_ that. He was fairly sure that counted as child abuse.

“It’s already a real name?” Tom asked surprised as though he came up with it himself, “Okay, what about Billmas?”

“I’m sorry what?” Sabine said through a mouthful of pie.

Georg saw what was going on and had to immediately put a stop to it. “We’re not naming our child after a combination of your names.”

“Why not!” Bill exclaimed, “It would be perfect, then he could be a combination of both mine and Tom’s awesome.”

“No.” Was Georg’s succinct reply, it needed no more explanation than “That’s a really stupid idea.”

Bill sighed exasperatedly as though extremely put upon, “What about Gryffin?” He said, and Georg was almost certain he was pulling the name out of thin air.

“And what will his middle name be, Bill?” Tom said sarcasm dripping from his voice, “Unicorn?”

“You know,” Bill replied as though seriously contemplating it, “That’s not a bad name.”

“No. Way. There is no way in hell I am letting you name our godson Unicorn.”

“Guys that’s enough,” Sabine said sharply before an argument could break out, “I appreciate your help, but this is mine and Georg’s decision. If you have some sensible suggestions then we’ll listen to them.” 

Both twins knew better than to provoke the situation any further though they might be sorely tempted. Now though they weren’t arguing but instead they seemed to be engaged in some bizarre ritual. Tom was flicking back and forth through the book of baby names when Bill suddenly called “Stop!”

Now on the open page Bill ran his finger up and down the list until Tom similarly call Bill’s movements to a halt.

The twins looked down at the page and smiled widely. Bill circled something in the book before handing it to Sabine and Georg. Circled in the black sharpie was a single word.

 _Oscar_. 

He looked up at Sabine and in that moment they both knew:

It was perfect.

Month 8

She was a whale. No, she was more than a whale; she was a whale that had eaten a bowling alley. She was finding it hard to even waddle to the kitchen to get food to counteract this persistent hunger. It was either that needing that or trying to get to the toilet because Oscar was tap-dancing on her bladder. The strange thing was, the worse she felt, the more people kept complimenting her on how stunning she was looking.

How could she possibly look stunning when she looked like she had a watermelon stuffed under her t-shirt? She was no longer able to travel any serious distance; she was having trouble getting in and out of cars and walking any more than around the house made her already swollen ankles ache more than should have been reasonable and so for the past week she had been stuck at home shuffling aimlessly from room to room.

Normally she would have gotten Georg to help her, or at least fetch things for her, but he had been called in to lay down some bass tracks for an upcoming single that the boys had been working on and she was left alone wallowing in self-pity with only her precious bump for company. Though he was wonderful to chatter to, he wasn’t much for any meaningful reply beyond a swift kick to the inside of her ribs.

Therefore, having to get up due to a knock on the door was the last thing she wanted. If it was a door to door sales man she was liable to garrotte them. So it was very lucky for one Gustav Schafer that he wasn’t a sales man and that he didn’t have anything handy that he could easily be garrotted with.

“Oh, hi Gustav. Georg’s at the studio.” She said surprised that the drummer didn’t know where Georg was going to be himself.

“I know; I’ve just got back from there. He’s got a couple more hours left to work, but I’ve already finished so he asked me to come and check if you’re alright. Do you mind having my company for a few?” he said holding up a KFC as persuasive offering. She didn’t know whether or not to be offended that people thought her compliance could be bought with edible goods, on the one hand she was pretty sure it meant people thought she was obsessed with food, on the other hand it smelt fantastic and there was no way that she was ever going to turn a Fillet Burger down.  
“Come in,” she said stepping back to let Gustav walk through into the hallway.

“Do you want to eat this in the kitchen or living room?” Gustav asked as Sabine locked the front door again.

Sabine contemplated this for a moment, she’d love to sit on the sofa but she knew if she did she probably wouldn’t be able to work up the energy needed to stand up again for at least half an hour, however, with Gustav here to help then that wouldn’t be a problem, and she did really want to rest her feet.

She had been told that at this stage of her pregnancy that her ankles would be swollen causing discomfort. She couldn’t even see her ankles to check if this was true, but it certainly felt like it.

As she sat down she couldn’t help but wince and hiss loudly because the weight that had been put on her ankles was removed and sensation had started to return to them.

“Is everything okay?” Gustav asked concerned, “Please don’t be going into labour, I don’t think I could cope.”

The snort of laughter that escaped her lips was entirely undignified but it did help her mood immensely, “No, I’m not going into labour. My ankles are sore from the extra weight.”

“Okay,” Gustav said standing up, “Budge over and put your feet in my lap.” He said plonking himself down next to her. She was able to just about lift her ankles onto her friend’s lap without assistance. He grabbed one of her feet and started massaging, the short thick fingers rubbing away the soreness in her feet. It was all she could do not to moan out loud.

“You’re really good at this,” she said with genuine surprise. “You could get a second career out of it.”

He chuckled lightly, “I could see it now; Gustav Schafer: temporary rock star and legendary masseuse to pregnant friends.”

“I’ll make the neon sign for you to have over the entrance to your shop. It’ll be purple.”

“The most fabulous purple that could ever be created.” Gustav said sagely.

“And you know it. Now I understand you have serious massaging duties to perform, but I give you permission to go and fetch the delicious sustenance from the table.”

“Of course my lady.” Gustav said, standing with a bow. “By the way, I know fizzy drinks make you gag at the moment, is there anything else that you’d like to drink?”

She put on her most upper class accent “Just water for now please, Jeeves.”

As Gustav left the room she couldn’t help but smile, of course this baby was going to give her a son, but she was getting even more than a new family out of this:

She was finally seeing the one she already had.

Month 9

That contraction was so sudden that she almost collapsed down onto the floor. She should have been used to them she had been having them for long enough.

“Georg!” she shrieked through the flat. If that bastard didn’t turn up in the next ten seconds she was going to break his arm. She had been having contractions for several hours now, but when they went to the hospital they said that she wasn’t dilated enough and that she needed to go home for a couple of hours.

But now they were starting to get so strong and so regular that she wanted to go back to the hospital again. Georg all but skidded into the room. She thought it was only in cartoons that people did those sorts of things, but she supposed that this level of panic could induce all sorts of behaviours in people.

“Georg, I’m not ready for this,” she sobbed into his shoulder shifting from foot to foot to try and work through the pain as he rubbed her back.

“Bini, do you want to go back to the hospital.” All she could do was nod into his shoulder and hope that the pain would go soon.

It would be worth it in the end. It would be worth it in the end. It would be worth it in the end.

“Fuck!”

***

Once they had gotten into the hospital Sabine was examined fairly quickly, and the midwife that examined her was slightly surprised. “Dear, you’re already eight centimetres; I’m impressed that you managed to wait this long before coming in again on a first pregnancy.”

“Whatever,” was all Sabine got out as another contraction hit.

“Don’t worry,” the midwife said to Georg, “she’ll be more lucid in a minute. I’ve had worse responses.”

“You’re doing beautifully, Sabine. I’ll be back at about one, but I reckon that you should be ready to push very soon.”

***

When the midwife said very soon, she meant it.

“Okay, love big push down into your bottom.” The midwife encouraged after what seemed like too short a space of time.

Georg was murmuring to Sabine, not really concentrating on what he was saying as long as it was encouraging.

“Deep breath and then we’ll push with the next contraction.” She said in a clear voice giving precise instructions.

He had been worried that he would be really grossed out by the whole situation, he had watched the birthing videos called ‘The Miracle of Life’ that had come with the parenting pack, but all it made him do was make him cringe. This was supposed to be one of the most important moments in his life and he couldn’t help but worry that all he’d be able to do when they got to the maternity unit was stand to the side trying not to look at what was happening.

However now he was here the atmosphere was so intense and the moment so important and heavy in the air that couldn’t even remember why he had been scared of it. He took a hold of Sabine’s hand and started saying the same things as the midwife was. He had felt useless throughout the whole ordeal, and every time there was something he could cling onto then he took it. “Come on, Bini. Big push.”

She was trying her hardest not to scream under the instructions of the midwife, who had said that the energy needed to go into pushing and not into her lungs, but Georg was sure that she was putting most of her energy into her hands. Georg swore that his fingers were broken with the force of the grip that Sabine had on them, right now though he couldn’t bring himself to mind; he felt like he probably deserved it.

The nurses were still babbling nonsense; he hoped that if it was important that someone was still listening, because Georg wasn’t any more. He used his other hand to push Sabine’s fringe away from her face even though he knew it wasn’t probably the highest thing on her list of priorities, but he felt so useless sitting here.

There was one last scream from Sabine and then for just one second everything was silent.

Forever

With a loud cry that even Bill would have been proud of the newborn baby breathed into life.

Georg couldn’t remove his eyes from him, his son, as he was placed on Sabine’s chest. New tears of joy flowed down their faces as all and any previous pain was forgotten.

Everything else he had ever known paled into insignificance; this here was a tiny bundle of immortality, the knowledge that whatever else happened in his life, this child, his little Oscar, would be his forever.


End file.
